Ethan casts a shield to surround himself with. The column of fire engulfs the etheric sphere, biting on it with the sound of jet engines. Ethan grits his teeth as the heat gnaws at his shield, the roar of the inferno drowning out all other sounds. Ethan's spell shrinks, driven back by Aranthor's overwhelming power.

Sweat pours down Ethan's face, sizzling as it meets the shield's inner surface. The surrounding threads running low, Ethan fills his mind with rage to summon his life force. The shield densifies, repelling the flames as the column propels Ethan into the sky.

The fire dies down as he exits the column, hovering above its zenith and the clouds. Ethan unsummons his shield, taking a deep breath of Ether as the threads return. Despite his artificial anger receding, Ethan's heart keeps racing.

The thrill of battle creeps into his mind, silencing his other senses. Not a day ago, he was loathing the thrill for being all he felt until he met Russ. Ethan kills that feeling. He opens himself to his surroundings to keep enough of his attention on Russ.

Ethan's breathes in, filling his lungs to their maximum. Like pouring towards a depression of air, Ether engulfs itself into his heart. He overfeeds Strengthening, swelling his frame.

Diving back, Ethan summons Zhiznezhret and stabs it through the bull's head. It convulses, and the dark green light of its eyes vanishes. Red whisps pour out from its body, and Ethan absorbs them, restoring and exceeding his life force. The bull's life force is tremendous; it fills Ethan with tenfold his own.

Ethan's Ether surges, more potent and overwhelming than before. Breaking through his ring's restraints, Ethan's aura spins like a typhoon. His muscles billow with steam, their power begging, screaming to be used. Ethan switches for Phantom Reaver. He bolsters Prescience and coats the sword in blue flames.

Aranthor glances around, examining Ethan's aura as it disrupts his own. A smirk forms on his face as he steadies himself to block Ethan's next move.

Ethan moves with a thunderclap, Phantom Reaver crashing against the king's blade. Aranthor's arms shake as he pains to oppose Ethan's strength. Holding his breath as he charges, Ethan chains countless attacks. One breaks Aranthor's guard, opening him for a downward slash Ethan executes at once.

Aranthor blocks with his forearm. Yet, as he glances down, he sees a melting gash caused by Phantom Reaver. While it wasn't enough to breach his armor, it means this blade can wound him, even in his golden fortress. His confident gaze and smirk vanish, replaced by indifference.

Ethan presses on, Phantom Reaver striking Aranthor as he struggles with Ethan's speed. Their steps shatter the air, each breaking the sound barrier as they fight through Uruk.

Aranthor summons an array of purple sigils on the ground, and gravity strengthens. Ethan's joints scream as he hurls himself towards Aranthor. Using his entire, amplified weight, in the blow, Ethan strikes downward. Aranthor disengages, a deep, bloodied gash in his chest, as Ethan stumbles to his feet.

Ether coalesces from nothingness in sickening quantities and seeps into Aranthor's body. The wrinkles of his eyes untangle, and his aura grows even stronger. He looks down at his hands and back at Ethan, a smirk on his face. Unsummoning his array, he shifts his stance, dropping his two-handed style for fencing.

Their blades lock, biting into each other with sparks and flames. They slide and spin their swords to breach their guards, staring at each other. Through their clash, Ethan can sense Aranthor has grown stronger. What changed? He didn't open his status to raise his characteristics, nor did he trigger an ability. Did that Ether make him stronger in exchange for nothing?

Aranthor criticizes, "You are self-taught, mongrel; I can see it in the flaws of your stance and blows. Why would someone so strong seek to bow their head to a god? You are Ether blessed and can use life force. Why, you who fight with such passion, would serve death?"

"I'm not serving her!" Ethan answers.

"It appears you are strong enough to drive me closer to my heights," Aranthor begins. He breaks their clash and disengages. Spinning his blade before touching its edge, Aranthor takes a taunting tone. "Your blade yearns to flow as part of you, yet you hold it back by your stiffness. Your obsession to control its every move conflicts with its will to bathe in the blood of its enemies."

'A lesson, now?' Ethan ponders. He circles Aranthor, focusing on his flow of Ether. His exceeding life force begs him to move, to burst forward, and to cut down his opponent.

"The labyrinth of death has been claimed," the system announces. "You obtained the Conqueror of the labyrinth of death title. You obtained the Conqueror of the first labyrinth title. Extra rewards have been granted."

A loot window appears in Ethan's sight, obscuring Aranthor's movements. The king's blade strikes Ethan's at an odd angle, breaking his guard as Phantom Reaver escapes his grip. Aranthor chains with a downward slash.

The world slows down in Ethan's perception. The thrill of battle comes back. It drowns Ethan's pains, tunnelling his senses towards Aranthor. With Russ hiding in his shadows, Ethan could give into it. Aranthor is too strong for Ethan, or at least he's too strong for the current one. Ethan lets the thrill through, calling forth his past self and its bloodthirst.

Every fiber of his being explodes with exhilaration, the thrill flooding his mind. It drowns out reason and hesitation, leaving only raw instinct and power. There is not room for preservation, no space for doubt; there is only Aranthor.

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Ethan moves behind Aranthor's reach, grabbing his armed arm under his left elbow. Summoning the Purgatory's hands, Ethan punches Aranthor's stomach. The blow squeezes blood out of Aranthor's nose. Ethan moves his left gauntleted hand to grab Aranthor's wrist and coat it in blue flames.

Aranthor drops his sword to extricate his burning hand and bursts backward. Ethan lunges forward, grabs Aranthor's cape, and pulls him into the ground. Aranthor's helmet reforms, shielding his head from the impact. Ethan lands on top of Aranthor and unleashes a series of punches. Each impact craters into his armor, the heat of Ethan's life force flames melting its metal.

Aranthor vanishes, and Ethan spins around. Lunging forward, Aranthor extends his right hand towards Ethan to summon a spear. The weapon cuts Ethan's side as he twists to avoid a lethal blow.

He grabs Aranthor's spear and rotates his chest, pulling back the shaft and hurling his fist at the king's. It connects with his face in a series of cracks and hurls Aranthor through five buildings. They collapse, lifting large clouds of sand in his wake.

Spinning Aranthor's spear forward, Ethan aims at the flying, golden target. He coats the weapon in a Lightning bolt, making it crackle in the air as it flies off in a sonic deflagration.

Aranthor vanishes, avoiding his own spear before it strikes a wall and pulverizes it. Ethan spins around and sees the king diving to grab his fallen blade. Ethan catches his golden-plated arm and crashes him into the ground.

Aranthor punches the ground, hurling himself into the air to escape Ethan's hold. Ethan lets go of the arm and grabs both Aranthor's blade and Phantom Reaver.

Ethan swings as the king descends, but his target vanishes. Using the momentum of his first blow, Ethan slashes behind him with Aranthor's own blade. It connects, digging into his armor and biting into his side.

Aranthor catches his blade's guard, stopping Ethan from cutting deeper into his torso. Aranthor's gaze shifts to something behind Ethan. There is no one else here, and the wall keeps the people outside. It's a distraction, a trap Ethan won't fall into. The king pulls back to wrench his blade from Ethan's hold, but Ethan takes it into his inventory.

Russ leaps out of the shadows behind the king; Ethan's thrill of battle vanishes. His senses expanding, he hears a deep hum vibrating the air, rising into a crescendo. The giant, camouflaged dog pounces against Aranthor's backplate, bringing him to the ground.

'Shadow,' Ethan commands. Russ dives into Ethan's, vanishing from sight.

Ethan's excess life force runs low, leaving him only a few precious seconds as Aranthor's equal. He grabs phantom Reaver with both hands, hurling it to ram the blade at the base of Aranthor's neck. Blinding light beams through both of them in Ethan's Prescience. He leaps to the side, avoiding a ray that strikes Aranthor, splitting across his armor into a jet of golden fire.

Uruk's buildings vanish into coal-like dust, revealing the sands below. The wall of death Ether falls, its shimmer vanishing from sight. Figures stand where Ethan was teleported, hundreds of people. Some are bloodied and weak, crawling on the ground; others cower behind small dunes, and a few stand upward. Amongst them, one approaches, draped in light, his eyes beaming in Aranthor's direction.

Like a beacon of light, Lucien illuminates the desert. The ray of golden flames originates from his hand. Something shakes Ethan's inner Ether. A downpour of light Ether descends from the skies onto Lucien, seeping into him.

Ethan triggers Predator's sight to spot all the people who appeared. He senses Lucien's heart beating at an unsustainable rate, close to cardiac arrest. He sees Ivy and Derek, Anders and Rowan, some of the faces of the lord's challenge, and Grant cowering in a corner.

A tear in space forms where the Ziggurat stood. It yawns open like a gaping maw, ten meters wide. Energy crackles at its edge, shimmering between hues of deep violet and ethereal blue. The portal swirls and churns with a power so immense that the air vibrates and the ground quakes.

A torrent of Ether explodes outward, rushing into the barren expanse with the ferocity of a storm. The surrounding threads densify, turning as powerful as those of the other world. Towering trees and verdant plains appear on its surface, a mirror to another place. The light of day pierces through, illuminating a cone of the nighttime desert.

'The portals appear once the labyrinths have been conquered,' Ethan realizes. 'It isn't a matter of time but a checkpoint to wait for someone strong enough to appear on this side.'

Lucien's scorching ray dies down. Aranthor climbs out of the molten sand that surrounds him. Another wave of Ether coalesces from nothingness and seeps into his body. His armor falls off in chucks, first his arms and his helmet, and then his chest plate. He wipes his face, flicking off red magma drops, revealing deep burns.

"The Paladin I sensed. Always the one to make the most noise with your heralds," Aranthor says. He unsummons the remains of his plate armor and calls forth another set. The tunic made of cloth and gems radiates with blinding brilliance. Golden plates reinforce his chest, a star embedded on his torso. He extends his right hand, and another blade appears. The long, straight, thin, black long sword drools dark smoke, covering the ground around him. "Ho Ninshar, I require your company for this fight, so you may revel in the blood of a god's puppet."

The blade hums. Dark veins grow from its handle and onto Aranthor's forearm. His muscles swell, and his eyes bleed to black, leaving only two blue pupils.

"You are weak," Lucien booms. His voice is not his own; it rolls out like thunder, deeper, each word shaking the sands. "Four centuries have ground your mortal form to dust and decay."

"Had it only been four hundred years, you would kneel in my presence," Aranthor says. He passes Ethan, walking towards Lucien. Aranthor's voice breaks ever so slightly. "Four hundred years ago, these worlds stood remote. I've seen more of their history than we know of our own. I was there when they took their first step. I was there when they discovered war. I was there in these mongrels' darkest moments."

"I understand, child," Lucien intones, his voice heavy. "How wretched it must have been for you—stripped of power without the elder God's grace. How it must have torn at your soul to watch, unable to command, unable to shape their fates as you deemed."

Ethan glides over a small dune, shielding himself from their sight. He takes out his phone and opens N.E.S.T.'s hidden application. Not wanting anyone to hear he messages Tombstone. 'Out of the labyrinth. Surrounded by army. Dangerous fight with Hayes. Ready anonymous exfil.'

"My strength is returning; soon, I will walk back to my kingdom," Aranthor says. He points his sword at Lucien, dripping smoke onto the sand. "Once again, I will erase you from the mongrels' lives, rob you of your power, and put an end to your schemes."

Ethan breathes in deeply, recovering from the overuse of Strengthening. The conversation between Aranthor and Seraphel makes him feel out of his depth. How long has Aranthor been among them? Why didn't he always shelter the pendant's shard with him? Why didn't he return to Kingsreach with a dungeon stone? What are Caelum's weaknesses? Why does Caelum want to form a new god? So many questions he thought of asking before all was gone to shit.

"Your recovering strength may yet falter against the might of this vessel," Lucien proclaims, his voice echoing. He steps forward, a radiant blade of light manifesting in his grasp. "I have longed for our battles. If this is to be our final clash, then let us expend every shred of our power; let this be a struggle sung of for eternity."